


even in the darkest of times

by bainel



Series: In Essence Divided [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Slow Burn, plus other characters from both universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-01-25 04:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bainel/pseuds/bainel
Summary: With new orders from the Dark Lord, Lilith becomes the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She's supposed to spy on Dumbledore but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy her time with a certain redhaired teacher, Zelda Spellman. Will feelings get in the way of the Death Eater's plan? Will she be compromised just like Barty Crouch Jr.? Or will everything end according to plan?
Relationships: Zelda Spellman & Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Series: In Essence Divided [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893706
Comments: 51
Kudos: 72





	1. I: The Return Of Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> A FEW WORDS:  
This crossover fic is part one of the series called "In Essence Divided". The story begins at the end of the fourth book (The Goblet of Fire) when Lord Voldemort returns to the land of the living, but the story itself takes place during the fifth book. In other words, there's a time jump between chapter one and chapter two.  
The name of this fic is taken directly from Dumbledore's quote, "Happiness can be found (...)".  
The rating is Mature, because there will be some pretty intense moments with violence, non-con, and some other stuff. For now, it's nothing explicit, but if anything changes, I'll change the rating and put warnings in the notes of the chapters, don't worry.  
I think that's all for now.  
Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The article (Harry Potter "Disturbed and Dangerous") is taken straight out of the book. As well as Lord Voldemort's speech to his Death Eaters.

* * *

A delicate breeze entered the room through the wide-open window, bringing a little bit of relief to the humidity of June. Letting out a frustrated sigh she rolled onto her back, kicking the covers out of the bed in the process, and stared at the black ceiling. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours she came to the conclusion that she won’t be getting any rest anytime soon. She sighed heavily and sat up on her bed looking around the dark bedroom, the only source of light being the bright moon shining above the slightly swaying treetops outside the window. There were robes and clothes scattered around the bedroom’s floor, falling out of the big, opened wardrobe. A body-length mirror stood in the corner. Old Daily Prophets laid in a messy pile on the bedside table, the title of the one on the top, that came in that very day, read: **HARRY POTTER “DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS”**. Under the title, there was a moving photograph of said boy, and below, the letters formed an article.

_ “The boy who defeated He Who Must Not Be Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts school. _

_ Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying. _

_ It is possible, say top experts at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion. _

_ "He might even be pretending," said one specialist, "this could be a plea for attention." _

_ The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public. _

_ "Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth-year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a Duelling Club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants, too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power." _

_ Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defence Leagueㅡ” _

The rest of the article was covered by a half-empty cup of long-cold tea, her wand, and reading glasses. On top of her dresser in the corner of the room stood an opened cage. Usually, a big barn owl sat inside it but it appeared Stolas has decided to go for a hunt that night. An old letter stuck out from beneath the empty cage. Only a few bottom lines of the first page were visible.

_ ㅡhave to visit, Lilith, it’s been too long since we’ve seen each other. I know you’re probably busy at the Ministry; being the head of the department must be no walk in a park, but I have to admit I miss you. I know you don’t like the _ㅡ

Accepting her fate of having to suffer a sleepless night, she moved to get off of the bed with the intention of making herself a fresh cup of tea, whenㅡshe hissed, catching her left arm with her right hand. The pain of hot white flames coursed through her forearm. It disappeared as soon as it came, yet an annoying pulling sensation in her arm lingered; the meaning was not lost on her. It might be thirteen years since the last time she’s felt it, but she still knew what it meant.

“He’s back,” she whispered into the darkness. The Dark Lord was calling his servants. Her heart picked up its pace rapidly in her chest, bruising her ribs, the blood thrummed in her ears. She’s been waiting for this moment the whole year; unlike Fudge and the whole Ministry, she could put two and two together. The disappearance of Bertha Jorkins in Albania, the Death Eaters and the Dark Mark appearing at the World Cup, weird things happening at Hogwarts… Well, weirder than usual. And as if that was not enough to let her know what was happening, her Dark Mark kept growing darker and darker by month. Every Death Eater with half a brain, though there weren’t many of them, could tell what was going on. She knew he was coming, the question remained, when? It looked like she’s finally got her answer.

A hurricane of feelings rushed through her body as she hurriedly moved to the wardrobe in search of the old black hooded robe, one she hasn’t put on in thirteen years; fear was the most prominent, casting long shadows over every other emotion. She was frightened by the inevitable fury of the Dark Lord; by the wrath, he was sure to bestow upon all of his servants for abandoning him, for not looking for him. So many of the faithful Death Eaters have turned their backs on him the second he disappeared, believing the rumors of his defeat, many of them scurried like rats, to save their lives and to avoid Azkaban. Many have claimed to be under the Imperius curse while fulfilling his orders. Lied about being deceived, sworn they had no idea, that they never had anything to do with him or his followers. She was one of those traitors. No one has ever found out she used to be a Death Eater. No one ever suspected her of anything. If they did, well, she was an Obliviator, after all. What was one fabricated incident needing a forgetting charm in comparison to every other gruesome crime she has ever done.

She finally found her robe and put it on in a hurry, hiding her messy hair under the hood. She was ready to grab her wand and turn on the spot to follow the annoying pull emanating from her Dark Mark when she remembered she was still missing one thing. She drew a circle in the air with her wand, leaving a silver line behind it, that slowly merged into a solid silver mask with detailing around the slits for the eyes. She put it on, covering the upper half of her face. Finally, ready to be reunited with her master.

She turned and stepped into the void, feeling herself being squeezed through time and space. Her feet hit solid ground, her nostrils filled with the damp smell of the earth, and when she opened her eyes she found herself standing between tombstones. A silhouette of a big house loomed on a hill in the distance behind the graveyard. Other hooded, masked figures were appearing left and right, between the trees, bushes, and graves, their robes fluttering in the air. And there, in the clearing between the graves, in the center of it all, watching them, waiting for them to come closer, he stood. He looked just as she remembered: unnaturally pale, tall, with red eyes, and slits instead of nostrils. Her heart rattled against her ribs, like a bird trying to escape its cage. 

Slowly, cautiously, one by one they started to move forward, barely believing their eyes. Her feet carried her, as if her body took control over her, leading her closer to the Dark Lord. The tension in the air was practically tangible. Not being able to tear their eyes from their master standing before them, as if no more than one day had passed since they last saw each other. And then, one of her hooded companions fell to their knees.

“Master.” A muffled, disbelieving voice emerged from behind the mask. She recognized it, yet she couldn’t connect it to a name, for even in their inner circle, not everyone knew each other’s names. The person moved on their knees towards the Dark Lord, kissed the hem of his robe, and moved aside. Slowly, everyone followed the example. She was one of the last ones to approach the Dark Lord; she didn’t dare look up at his face, she kept her head bowed in submission. She took the hem of his robe in hand as delicately as she could, afraid to dirty the material with her trembling, undeserving fingers.

“My lord,” she whispered and kissed his robe. Her heart was beating hard and fast in her throat, while his cold red looked down at her. She moved away to take her usual place in the circle that other Death Eaters have already created, allowing herself to let out a small sigh of relief. She was aware that the worst of his anger was yet to come, but the fact that he wasn’t firing curses left and right on sight was a good sign.

To her left stood Faustus Blackwood. He was one of the few she knew by name and she could see his blue eyes following her through the slits of his mask when she passed him. To her right, there was a big gap, big enough to fit six people in there. She knew at least three of them by name; two of them were already dead, the other one was Igor Karkaroff, apparently too cowardly to show himself. Fool.

When the last Death Eaters took their place, the Dark Lord looked silently around the circle. His face did not express any emotions but Lilith could tell his cold fury was rising by the second. Despite the hot air of the night and the lack of wind, a chill made its way around their circle, making them all shiver. Her stomach lurched with nerves, expecting the curse to strike her at any moment. 

“Welcome, Death Eaters,” he said, his soft whisper lingering in the air. “Thirteen years, since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it was yesterday. We are still united under the Dark Mark, then? Or are we?” They all watched as the Dark Lord sniffed the air around him theatrically. “I smell guilt. There is a stench of guilt upon the air.”

The second wave of shivers swept through the circle. A cold drop of sweat made its way on her temple. This was it, they were about to pay for their betrayal.

“I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact. Such prompt appearances and I ask myself why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master to whom they swore eternal loyalty.”

A soft sob reached her ears. Her eyes dropped involuntarily to the ground from which the sound seemed to be coming from. She saw a small man, crouching and cradling a bloodied stump of his hand, sobbing and whining in pain. A block of ice dropped to her stomach, what in Merlin’s beard has happened before they all got there?

Her master’s voice forced her eyes to snap up to his pale face, “And I answer myself, they must have believed me broken. They thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment. And then I ask myself but how could they have believed I would not rise again.” Lilith held her breath. They were inching closer to the moment of the explosion, she knew it. Each of her companions could feel it in the quiet tone of his voice when he said, “It is a disappointment to me.”

One of the Death Eaters couldn’t bear the tension any longer, he threw himself to the ground begging for forgiveness. Knowing instantly that the man committed a mistake, Lilith had to restrain herself from instinctively taking a step back, and forced her body to not flinch. She knew what was coming and yet the earsplitting shout of the foolish man caused her insides to churn. His agonizing screams carried throughout the graveyard and into the night. Lord Voldemort watched the man writhe at his feet with mild interest. He lifted his wand and the Death Eater’s screams stopped. 

“Avery,” she heard the Dark Lord say, “you ask for forgiveness. I do not forgive, I do not forget.”

Her blood ran cold. The time has come for them all to get punished for their transgressions. A tremble she could not control ran down her spine; her hands curled into fists at her sides. 

“ㅡhaven’t you, Wormtail?” he said, drawing everyone’s attention to the still sobbing man curled up on the ground, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. Lilith watched in amazement as the Dark Lord waved his wand lazily and rewarded Wormtail for his service with a shiny silver hand. “May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail.”

Her eyes followed the awestruck man, admiring his new hand and joining the Death Eaters in the circle. But then, the Dark Lord looked around the circle again, his face unreadable and cold. His eyes stopped at the figure a bit to her right. 

“Lucius my slippery friend…”

She watched, alongside others, with growing dread, as the Dark Lord walked slowly around the circle, stopping here and there in front of some of his servants. He was calling out their names, and every single one of them knew exactly what that meant: he was exposing them, in front of everyone else, giving the possible traitors the names they could give away to the Ministry.

He was getting closer and closer to where she was standing, holding her breath, waiting for the inevitable. She was certain the Dark Lord would say something about her. After all, no one ever found out she was a Death Eater, which was not necessarily a bad thing, but she never faced a trial, she was not thrown into the Azkaban, and because of that she had no excuse as to why she never looked for him. He was almost right next to her. Not being able to stand the tension any longer, she lowered her eyes, not daring to look at his face. Holding her breath, expecting to hear her own name, she waited, but… Nothing. He passed her by, not even gracing her with a glance, as if she wasn’t there. She looked up and saw he was now looking at the gap between her and the other Death Eater. Not sure if she should feel relieved or not she just stood there, rooted to the spot, with her heart slowly coming back to its normal pace.

When he was done with counting their faults, someone dared to ask about the miracle of his resurrection. For a second Lilith thought the man would get punished for speaking out of turn, but no, The Dark Lord started to speak again. He drew attention to someone Lilith did not notice until then, even though he was in plain sight.

A boy, bound to a tombstone with ropes; the same boy whose face Lilith had seen that very morning in the Daily Prophet.

The Boy Who Lived.

Harry Potter.

Lilith looked at his young face, at his wide eyes, sweeping the scene before him, and she could not help but wonder, what was it about that boy that made him so special. He didn’t look like much and yet he was the reason behind the Dark Lord’s downfall while he was still in diapers. She listened intently to the tale about that faithful night.

The Dark Lord told them all about the night he met his failure. About how the boy’s mother had protected the child and how that was the reason why the Dark Lord disappeared for thirteen years. Lilith could not help but feel curious about the boy. Like many others, after the Dark Lord’s defeat, she thought that maybe, _ maybe _the boy might turn into their new leader. Someone who would lead them towards greatness. But now, when she looked at him, bound to the tombstone, she saw no more than a frightened child. How could they ever think that this pitiful creature could ever defeat their master?

When he was done with his tale, the Dark Lord released the boy to prove to everyone once and for all which one of them was more powerful, and let the teenager fight for his life. They were about to witness the boy’s death but she was sure the Dark Lord would like to play with his prey first, before killing him once and for all. And when the first Cruciatus curse hit the young boy she knew she was right. She laughed along with others when the boy managed to hide behind the nearest grave. 

“We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,” said the Dark Lord, nearing closer to the place where the boy was hiding. She could feel the spell already hanging in the air. “Come out, Harry… come out and play, then… it will be quick… it might even be painless… I would not know… I have never died.”

The boy emerged from behind the stone with his head held high, with determination in his eyes. Lilith had to admit she was impressed, not many people could face Lord Voldemort.

Something was not right, though. When their spells connected, a barrier formed around them, separating the two of them from the Death Eaters. Panic swept through them all as they watched their master trying to fight the boy. Lilith was not sure what happened next, everything seemed like a blur. One second the golden barrier was there, the other it was gone. Some shadowy figures flew around them, the Dark Lord was shouting, the spells were flying left and right, and then… Before they all knew what happened, it was all over.

The boy was gone.

The Dark Lord let out a horrible scream that Lilith could feel in her bones. Stunned by the event as she was, she could still immediately sense danger. She shot him a frightened look, knowing what was about to happen a split second before it did. In his fury, he gripped his wand and started to throw curses left and right. She tried to duck behind a tombstone but it was too late. She felt herself being lifted off of the ground with the impact of the spell. A horrible, crushing pain coursed through her bones. A scream filled her ears and only a second later she realized it was her own. And when she thought she was about to blackout from the pain, it ended as suddenly as it had started. She felt the rush of air on her skin, heard the swish of wind in her ears, and felt the air being knocked out of her lungs.

A crack against her ribs, pounding in her ears, lingering pain in her bones, something hot dripping down her brow, metallic taste in her mouth, different screams somewhere behind her. When she opened her eyes with a groan, everything was blurry. She saw other hooded figures scattered around the graveyard like ants, trying to duck out of the line of fire. She saw bodies laying on the grass or against tombstones, just like she was. And in the middle of it all stood the Dark Lord. Panting with rage, his eyes shooting red flashes. A blood-curdling scream left his mouth and Lilith trembled in fright.

It was another twenty minutes before Lilith was able to pick herself up from the ground. Her face under the mask was bloodied, her robes dirty, her ribs most certainly broken. She was sure she had some other injuries that the rush of adrenaline still prevented from identifying. She was gasping for air but she didn’t dare heal herself just yet.

It was another hour before the Dark Lord calmed down enough to start making a new plan. After all, Harry Potter was still alive, Dumbledore was aware by now of what had happened that night, the spy at Hogwarts was most probably already compromised.

They were in dire need of a new plan. And quick.


	2. II: The Unexpected Offer

* * *

Lilith sat in her office; a small room, with grey walls, filled with drawers full of folders and reports. As the head of the Obliviator Headquarters, she was allowed an office of her own. She had her legs on the desk, Daily Prophet in hands, reading the article on the front page. Most of the page was covered with a large picture of a crooked-nosed man with half-moon spectacles, long silver hair, and an equally long and silver beard. The man was smiling politely at the camera. The title under the picture read:

**DUMBLEDORE DEMOTED FROM CHIEF WARLOCK IN THE WIZENGAMOT**

_ Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had just been demoted from Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards. _

_ It’s commonly known that Albus Dumbledore made a public speech this past June about the event that took place during the last task of the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. In the speech, the headmaster of Hogwarts claimed that You-Know-Who has come back to life. As his source, Dumbledore mentioned the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry Potter (15), and a Death Eater by the name of Barty Crouch Jr., a man who was thought to be dead. _

_ Dumbledore claims, that Potter had seen the rebirth of You-Know-Who, during the last task of the Tournament. The Boy Who Lived was supposed to be the only witness to the event. But can we really believe in the words of a boy who… (see more, page six). _

Lilith rolled her eyes and threw the paper down on her desk, not bothering to read any more of the article. She has had enough, and she knew exactly what she would find on page six. Those halfwits were dumb enough to disregard the words of a man who they had believed to be the most intelligent and most powerful in the wizarding world. They were ready to turn their backs on the boy who they had thought to be their savior, just because he had said something Fudge could not stomach. Idiots. The Dark Lord would have the upper hand as long as the Ministry would remain oblivious to what was happening. Lilith started to wonder why she was even bothering with reading that paper.

She took her wand and pointed it at the newspaper. Seconds later there were small paper airplanes flying everywhere around her office, some of them were tearing themselves apart, making a terrible mess in the process.

At that exact moment, there was a knock on the cracked open door. A balding redheaded man walked in, but he stopped in his tracks when he spotted the state her office was in, with a look of shock on his face.

“Hello, Arthur,” she said, smiling politely at the man in front of her. He looked at her with his eyebrow raised.

“Wrong moment?” Lilith chuckled. She didn’t like most of her coworkers but she had always enjoyed Arthur Weasley’s company. Despite him being a blood-traitor, he was a pleasant man to be around. She knew most of the other Death Eaters, if not all of them, would hate the man with a burning passion. He had a natural kindness and a look of child-like wonder in his eyes whenever someone mentioned anything muggle-related to him. She pitied him for his softness. She pitied him for his loyalty to Dumbledore too, like one would pity a sick animal. But Lilith had grown quite fond of him.

“Not at all. I was just having a little disagreement with my newspaper.” She pointed at one of the paper airplanes zooming around the room with her wand and it exploded in smoke and flames.

“What about?” Arthur pointed his own wand at the burning paper and it instantly fell to the floor in a wet mess. One flick of his wand later and the puddle had disappeared, along with the burnt paper.

“Albus Dumbledore,” she shrugged. Lilith removed her legs from her desk and motioned for Arthur to take a sit.

“Your paper disagrees with you on the subject of Dumbledore?”

“Quite,” she smirked at him, ignoring the two paper planes that were racing each other around her head, “It more or less had called him a liar.” A thoughtful and, at the same time, strange look crossed Arthur’s face as he scrunched his eyebrows and smiled at her.

“So you believe him, then?” He was observing her closely. She knew what must be going through his head. He was certainly thinking she was supportive of Dumbledore where in fact, she was quite the opposite. She was torn between being frustrated at the stupidity of their current government and being glad about the fact that they’re so adamant about denying that the Dark Lord had returned. Because of that little fact, her master could bring his plans to life, quietly. 

"And you don't?” she asked raising her eyebrow at him, “ Honestly, Arthur, I thought you weren't as shortsighted as the rest of them."

"Believing Dumbledore is as good as believing Harry Potter,” he took off his glasses with a tired sigh and started to clean them with his robe, “and as a matter of fact I believe them both."

"Good for you. The moment You-Know-Who reveals himself to the world it'll be too late. And Fudge is too stupid to realize that," she watched as Arthur placed his glasses back on his nose and realized he probably didn’t come into her office to chat about biased newspapers and government, "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. What can I do for you?"

He looked at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about, but seconds later an understanding came over him. He sat a bit straighter.

"Oh, yes. There's been an accident in Paddington. Four muggles were bitten by a kettle. I already took care of the biting kettle but the witnesses… I need an Obliviator to deal with this. Do you have anyone free?"

"I'll deal with this one myself. Need to stretch out my legs."

The truth was she was jumping on the occasion for leaving the office earlier than planned. She couldn’t wait to go back to her cottage and relax a little. Maybe use some healing salves for her ribs; it might have been over a month since she’s got thrown against that tombstone at the graveyard, and she might have mended them already, but some spells and curses tend to leave damages more difficult to heal than others. And her ribs were still sore all over. She might drink some wine once she’s back at her cottage, as well. Draw a bath. Oh, she couldn’t wait to escape the Ministry and go home. The next meeting with the Death Eaters was supposed to take place that Friday in the house in Little Hangleton and she thought she’d better get her rest before it happens.

She stood up and flicked her wand, making all of the paper airplanes that were still flying around and tearing each other apart disappear, and hid her wand in her robe’s pocket. Arthur stood up as well smiling at her.

"Alright then," he said, moving towards the door. 

They walked out of her office, closing the door behind them. They found themselves in the main room of the Obliviator Headquarters. It was a big room, filled with desks and drawers, where her coworkers were talking with each other over the low walls separating their individual spaces. Several of the Obliviators nodded respectfully towards her and Arthur as they passed them. Once out in the hall, Arthur turned to her.

“I’ll need the report by tomorrow morning, will you be able to do that for me?”

“Sure. That won’t be a problem.”

“I have to go back to my own office now. Need to send an owl.” He pulled a small crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her, “Here’s the address you’ll need.”

“Have a good day, Arthur.”

He looked at her for a while and she thought he’d say something else but he only nodded and smiled at her. Confused, she watched him walk away for a moment and then turned into the direction of the elevators.

Finding the address wasn’t hard, obliviating the muggles wasn’t hard either. She was done with her task in less than ten minutes. Transfiguring her robe into a simple summer dress to blend into the muggle society, she left the slightly confused family and strolled down the busy street to find a secluded ally to disapparate. She has just noticed the perfect place to do so when something compelled her to look to her left. At first, she had no idea what she was looking at, but then she caught sight of a familiar figure. Between two tall buildings, hidden in the shadows, stood a man. Tall, with silver-white hair and beard, half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose, dressed in purple robes under a traveling cloak. She narrowed her eyes. Albus Dumbledore, standing in the middle of Muggle London, looking expectantly directly at her. She moved towards him, filled with curiosity and he smiled at her, a twinkle in his pale blue eyes when she stood before him.

"Miss Demons," said Dumbledore bowing his head a little. 

"Dumbledore."

“I’ve heard I might find you here.”

“You were looking for me?” Confusion and suspicion rose in her chest. She knitted her eyebrows looking up at his face. What in the world could Albus Dumbledore want with her?

“Oh, yes. Certainly,” he smiled as if he knew exactly what was happening in her head.

“Well, you have found me,” said Lilith. She was ready to get straight to the point of this conversation.

“Would you like to go for a little walk with me, miss Demons?” He offered her his arm and she looked at it with confusion. When she looked up she noticed he still had that calm smile plastered to his face. 

“I would like to go home, Dumbledore,” she sighed.

“I won’t take much of your time. And I’ve heard you’d like to stretch out your legs.”

She frowned. She had said those words to Arthur Weasley earlier in her office. But how could Dumbledore know that? She looked into those pale blue eyes, trying to read anything from them. It dawned on her that Arthur had probably told him where she’d be. But why? Why would he do that? They weren’t suspecting her of anything, were they? No, that couldn’t be it. There must be another reason for Dumbledore to seek her out. She rolled her eyes, understanding that she won’t get any answers if she won’t follow him. So she gripped his outstretched arm and immediately felt herself being squeezed through space, and when her feet touched the ground once more they were in an empty room that looked like an inside of an abandoned warehouse.

“Nice place for a walk,” she said sarcastically, looking around. There was nothing in sight. Only empty walls, broken windows, some dirt on the concrete floor, and a lot of spider webs.

“At least no one will overhear us,” Lilith could hear a change in his voice. She looked over at him and saw his face turned serious.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“Because,” said Dumbledore, “Arthur Weasley had told me, I might want to talk to you.”

“And why is that?”

“Miss Demons, do you know anything about Order of the Phoenix?”

Did she know anything? She knew probably more than she should have. Given the fact that the Order was a mortal enemy of the Death Eaters since the last time the Dark Lord was rising to power, she knew quite a lot. But of course, Dumbledore couldn’t know that. Not even he knew she had a Dark Mark on her left arm.

“I know you’re their leader,” she said carefully, “I know you were fighting You-Know-Who the last time he was powerful.” She had some scars on her body to prove that. The members of the Order were giving as good as they got. A spell for a curse.

“Arthur had told me you believe in his return." His blue eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

"Of course I do." _ I've seen it, after all _, she thought to herself.

"Order is gathering once again to move against Voldemort."

"Why are you telling me this, Dumbledore?"

"I want you to join me."

A stunned silence hung above their heads. That was not what she was expecting from this conversation. Was Albus Dumbledore seriously asking her to join the Order of the Phoenix? Had he no idea at all, that he was inviting a Death Eater into his ranks? No, of course, he hadn’t. No one knew who she really was. She realized her mouth was hanging opened so she closed it quickly and cleared her throat.

"Join the Order?" she asked in disbelief. It must be a joke. Some kind of trap. It couldn’t be possible… But if it was… If Dumbledore was really proposing she’d join him… Oh, this could not get any better. A spy of the Dark Lord amongst the Order of the Phoenix? She could not imagine how pleased her master would be with her once she’d tell him.

“I need new members,” said Dumbledore moving closer to her. She watched him intently, searching for a sign it was some kind of trap, “I know you’re a very talented witch. Smart. Capable. I was your teacher at Hogwarts, after all; I’d know.”

“Alright,” she said. A seed of a plan was starting to bloom in the deepest corner of her mind. She could not wait to tell her Lord that the great Albus Dumbledore, himself, had recruited her to the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye visible once more. He reached inside the pocket of his cloak and Lilith thought he would pull out his wand, that it was a trap, after all, but he took out a small golden pocket-watch. She discreetly let out a breath she was holding. Dumbledore looked at the watch and then put it in his pocket once more.

“I’m running late. There’s a meeting at the Headquarters happening right now. I want you to come with me, miss Demons.”

“Just like that?” she asked perplexed. Wasn’t he going to check her first? Was he really this foolish to let a complete stranger, _ just like that _, into the Headquarters of the Order? She thought more of him but apparently, he really did lose a few marbles throughout the years.

“Just like that.” There was that understanding smile again. He reached out his arm, offering it to her, once more, “Shall we?”

She eyed him suspiciously. It still could have been a trap. But it wouldn’t do her any good if the Dark Lord had found out she had had a chance to infiltrate the Order and she’d turned it down. So much for a relaxing evening at her cottage, she thought as she gripped his arm once more and felt herself being sucked up into the nothingness.

They stood in the middle of a square, identical buildings surrounding them. There was nothing special about the place; the street looked like many others. She looked at Dumbledore questioningly and saw he was looking straight ahead of himself. She followed his eyes and her sight landed on the buildings in front of them. The sign on one of them read Grimmauld Place. There was also a number, 11. But the number on the building to the right was 13, and the one on the left, 10. She looked at Dumbledore once more.

“Are you familiar with the Fidelius Charm, Miss Demons?”

“I am,” she said frowning up at him.

“The Headquarters is protected with it. Luckily for us, I’m the Secret Keeper, so I can tell you the address,” he looked down at her, “The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.”

Immediately, between numbers 11 and 13 a new building rose up. It looked just like the others on the street, but there was a shining number 12 on its wall. Dumbledore moved forward towards the new building and Lilith followed him. They stood on the steps in front of the old door and Dumbledore took out his wand. He tapped it on the door and they could hear some metallic sounds behind it. Lilith felt her heart beating hard in her chest. This was it. She was about to enter the Headquarters of the Order.

The door opened to reveal a dark, gloomy, and silent hallway. Dumbledore moved aside to let her enter first. Once they were both in the hallway, the door closed behind them, blocking any source of light.

"Keep your voice down while we’re in the hallway, miss Demons if you please," she heard Dumbledore's whisper to her right. She felt him move and the next second the lamps on the walls lit up, bathing the hallway in a dimmed light.

Lilith looked around. The place seemed extremely depressing. Dark walls, paintings in heavy frames, covered with a thick layer of dust. If her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, there were disembodied heads of house-elves hanging on the wall. And for some reason, an umbrella stand, shaped like a troll's leg. What was the Order doing in a place like that one?

"Follow me, please," whispered Dumbledore moving towards the door on the right. She walked behind him, looking around and taking in as many details as she could. She thought that through the door they would enter some living room, but in fact, the door lead to a staircase going into the basement. Brick walls on either side didn't give her a good impression. She started to wonder if it was too late to run away but before she could do just that they entered a brightly lit kitchen.

There was a long wooden table in the middle of the room and around the table what seemed like thirty people. They all fell silent once they realized that Dumbledore was in the room.

"Good afternoon. Forgive me, for keeping you waiting," said Dumbledore moving further inside the kitchen. Lilith stayed by the door. "I'd like to introduce our newest member, Lilith Demons."

All eyes moved towards her. She had the impression that suddenly she was put in the spotlight. Everyone was looking at her and Lilith was not used to that. She had always preferred working in the shadows where no one could see her and now she felt extremely exposed.

She looked at the faces that were turned towards her. So many of them were familiar. There was Alastor Moody, the very same that was impersonated by Barty Crouch Jr. There was Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror. Arthur Weasley, who looked at her with a pleased expression on his face. The youngest and newest of Aurors, Nymphadora Tonks. The escaped prisoner, Sirius Black. There were so many of them her mind couldn't take them all in at once. But perhaps the biggest surprise for her was a person sitting closer towards the farther end of the table. With his black, oily hair, and a long nose. Severus Snape. The shock she had felt at the sight of him had passed quite quickly and was immediately replaced by anger. How dare he sit there as if he hadn't betrayed his Lord. As if he had done nothing wrong. His cold black eyes met hers but she saw no spark of recognition there. Just an empty void.

"Please, take a seat," she heard Dumbledore’s voice addressing her, and her body followed the order but her mind was racing.

What was Snape doing there? He had come back to the Dark Lord after his return. He wasn't at the graveyard but then he had shown up at the last meeting they had. Was he truly a traitor as everyone thought? If he wasn't, then why was he sitting at a meeting of the Order?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore’s calm voice. He had started the meeting by thanking all of them for attending. Then he moved right into the important matters, such as the Department of Mysteries. Hearing the name of the department Lilith frowned. How had Dumbledore found out?

The Dark Lord had plans for the Department of Mysteries, more importantly for the room with the prophecies. Before the last meeting of the Death Eaters Lilith had no idea there was a prophecy about the Dark Lord. She had never heard of it, not even a rumor. But somehow her master was aware of its existence and was determined to hear the prophecy. That was his most important plan, at the moment. But how could Dumbledore know that? Unless, Lilith thought, _ someone _ told him. She looked towards the top of the table on her right. Dumbledore was listening carefully to some report from a shabby-looking man. The man finished his report and took out a pipe, he was about to lit it when,

"For the last time, Mundungus, don't smoke that in the kitchen," said a plump redheaded woman sitting next to Arthur Weasley.

"Sorry, Molly," said Mundungus hiding his pipe back in his pocket.

"Professor Spellman," Dumbledore looked toward the end of the table where Lilith sat, "I'd like to hear your report on your guard this past Monday."

A woman sitting on her left started to speak. At the sound of her raspy voice, Lilith turned her head and looked at her. She was a beautiful woman, Lilith could tell. The thing that stood out the most to her about the woman was her long hair. Red, just like Arthur and Molly's. Lilith’s eyes traced the woman's features as she spoke. The little dimple in her chin, the high cheekbones, the soft arch of the brow, her delicate nose. Lilith hadn't realized the woman had stopped talking until she noticed the woman looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a shadow of a smirk on her lips.

"Can I help you?" asked the other woman in a hushed voice to not interrupt the person that was speaking at the moment. Lilith refused to be embarrassed about being caught staring. Instead, she grinned mischievously.

"We'll see about that," she winked at the woman and turned her attention back to Dumbledore who was speaking once more. He was giving some kind of instructions to a man with fangs for earrings. She tried to focus on the conversation, after all, she'll have to repeat as much of the information as she could to the Dark Lord. Something about goblins, Gringotts Bank, international relations.

In the next five minutes, the meeting was over. She sat in her place, not sure what she was supposed to do now. Some of the Order's members were still in their seats, talking to each other. She felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned around she found herself face to face with a smiling Arthur Weasley.

"I'm glad to see you," he said.

"I've heard it was your idea to bring me here."

"Just a suggestion," he shrugged and then looked at the woman still sitting on her left. "I don't know if you know each other, Lilith Demons this is Zelda Spellman. Miss Spellman here is a professor at Hogwarts, she teaches Charms..."

"That's quite enough information, Arthur," said Zelda who's eyes suddenly turned cold while looking at Lilith, "You should be more careful than inviting every stray to be a member of the Order."

Lilith had no idea where was all of this sudden hostility coming from but she wouldn't stand for it.

"Excuse me?" she frowned at the woman. She hadn't noticed that Arthur had quietly removed himself from the situation. 

"I know your name, miss Demons" Zelda practically spat out her last name, "Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley might trust you, but I don't have to."

Lilith watched the woman stand up and leave the kitchen. Why would her last name cause in Zelda Spellman such a reaction? But no matter how hard she'd think about it that night in her cottage, she couldn't find an explanation for the woman's sudden reaction to her last name.

What a weird woman, she thought to herself.


	3. III: New Plan of the Dark Lord

* * *

The rest of the week seemed like a blurry, surreal dream. Or maybe it was the meeting of the Order itself that was a dream, Lilith wasn’t sure. Has it really happened? Was she truly a member of the Order now? She still expected to either wake up from this dream or for someone from the Order to tell her that it was all a trap, cleverly set up for her to fall right into. However, nothing like that had happened, yet.

All she knew with all certainty, was that it was Friday already and that she was attending the scheduled meeting in Little Hangleton. She was sitting, along with other Death Eaters, at the wooden table in what seemed to be an abandoned and wasting away house. Behind the top of the table, a fireplace was glowing. It was unbearably hot in the August evening, Lilith could feel herself sweating under the black robe and was sure others were as well, but no one was stupid enough to suggest they put out the fire. Instead, they all looked at the Dark Lord who was sitting at the top of the table, playing with his wand in silence and listening to one of the Death Eaters. The tension could be cut with a knife.

"Dumbledore's keeping his pawns at the entrance to the Department of Mysteries at night. No one will get through."

"How did he find out?" asked someone down the table. He was completely ignored when the Dark Lord looked up directly at Lucius Malfoy.

"Any news about the school?" he asked quietly, his eyes shining with a red gleam.

“From what I’ve heard from Fudge,” said Lucius straightening in his chair, “he’s trying to get some control over the school. Trying to place his own person into Hogwarts to watch Dumbledore at all times. Dumbledore has problems with finding another teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts and looking at what happened to the previous ones, I’m not surprised. Fudge passed the law that states he can appoint his own teacher if Dumbledore can’t find one in time.”

Lilith wasn’t surprised by the news. She felt something like that was bound to happen sooner or later and seeing the growing hostility of the Ministry towards Dumbledore it was just a matter of time. A few Death Eaters sniggered. 

"We could arrange for one of our people to apply for the job."

"There already was a Death Eater at the school last year and what happened to him? Got himself kissed by a dementor, didn't he?"

"My Lord?” asked Lilith quietly. The whole room fell silent. She has never spoken out of turn before, but she just couldn’t wait any longer. Her news felt more important than some Ministry and Dumbledore’s feud, and she was impatient to see the Dark Lord’s reaction. She ignored the other Death Eaters, keeping her eyes on her master the whole time. She waited for him to lazily turn his attention to her before she said, “If I may, I have some important news to share."

“Speak,” said Voldemort. His voice, even though a whisper, was perfectly audible in the completely silent room. His snake-like face was blank, his red eyes empty of any emotions.

“My Lord, I have good news.” Her voice was trembling slightly, just like her fingers that she kept clasped together in her lap. She took a deep shaky breath. “I have successfully infiltrated the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore has recruited me personally. That fool has not even checked my background. I was present for their last meeting at their Headquarters.”

“And where is the Headquarters of the Order?” sneered a Death Eater sitting across from her. Some others have cackled, looking at her patronizingly. She looked at him with disgust.

“The Fidelius Charm has been put on it. I can’t speak the name of the place.”

“How convenient," he sniggered.

"And we're to just believe you like that?" asked someone else. Lilith looked at the man who had spoken. He had an unpleasant smile on his face; she vaguely recognized him from the Ministry. She was about to answer his question when somebody else did it for her.

"She's telling the truth, Yaxley," a quiet voice came from her right side. She looked over in that direction and she met the black eyes of Severus Snape.

She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him after their unexpected meeting at the Headquarters of the Order. And even if she had had a chance, Lilith wasn’t sure if she would talk to him. She did some thinking after that event and came to the conclusion that every single one of them had their own orders from the Dark Lord. And maybe his orders were to spy on Dumbledore, just like he did before the Dark Lord’s disappearance. As to why he was forgiven for not showing up at the graveyard, well, Lilith thought, he had to have a pretty good excuse if the Dark Lord didn’t kill him on the spot when he came back. He looked at her for a second, his eyes empty and emotionless, as always.

Yaxley looked between Snape and Lilith, confused with the sudden understanding between the two.

"How do you know, Snape?" he barked at the other man. Snape curled his upper lip, baring his teeth.

"Let's not concern yourself with matters beyond your level of understanding."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yaxley moved his hand towards his pocket to pull out his wand, but before he could do just thatㅡ

"Silence," said the Dark Lord, standing up from his chair and putting an end to the argument. Everyone looked fearfully at him but he paid no attention. Instead, he turned his back on them and moved to stand by the fire, watching the flames, lost in his thoughts. "Yes,” he whispered to himself, “this might work… This might fit just perfectly into my plan.”

***

How did she end up at Hogwarts in the headmaster’s office was beyond her. All she knew was that her order was to apply for the job of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Lilith doubted if Dumbledore would hire her, but the Dark Lord was convinced that with no more than a week left before the start of the school year, Dumbledore would grasp at straws to not let the Ministry into the castle. And who was she to question her master?

So she sat in the headmaster’s office, surrounded by the sleeping portraits of the previous headmasters and a lot of delicate objects she did not know the purpose of. She could hear quiet chirps of the magnificent bird sitting behind her, next to the door. Right in front of her, across the desk, Albus Dumbledore was looking at her with his pale blue eyes, as if he could see right through her. He had his elbows propped on the desk, his chin resting on his intertwined fingers. She could feel herself getting more nervous by a second under his gaze.

"Miss Demons, why do you want this job?" asked Dumbledore, his voice calm and gentle. Why, indeed, she thought to herself. She had no idea. When the Dark Lord gave orders, he very rarely explained them. She just had to get the job, then she would find out why. However, Lilith was prepared. She was aware Dumbledore ask questions and she was ready for her performance. She smiled lightly and for a second looked down at her lap, as if thinking about her answer. Looking back up she noticed that some of the portraits on the wall behind Dumbledore were listening to their conversation. 

"I will be honest because I don't see any reason why I shouldn't be,” she stopped for a moment and looked at the window, trying to appear to be gathering her thoughts. There wasn’t much to look at outside the window. The black night sky was covered with clouds. It looked as if it was going to rain. She glanced at Dumbledore who was smiling at her with that all-knowing glint in his eye. She let out a sigh. “I have heard of the situation that you're in. I know that the Ministry wants to interfere at Hogwarts and I don't want that. In fact, I wanted to quit my job at the Ministry for a while now. And I thought, why not become a teacher? This school has always been…" But before she could properly get into her role, Dumbledore interrupted her.

"I'm sure you've prepared a moving speech, but what I want to know is what are your true intentions."

Lilith stared. Her mind went momentarily blank. Did heㅡDid he know? No, she thought. She frowned, hoping she could blame her moment of stunned silence on pure confusion at Dumbledore’s question.

"Those are my true intentions, Dumbledore."

"Are you sure?" He raised his eyebrow, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I don't want to see those idiots from the Ministry mingling with Hogwarts’ business. They should stay where they are."

"And what do you have to offer as a teacher?" he chuckled a little, and Lilith felt she could breathe once again. This question she knew how to answer. She smiled one more time, trying to regain her previous confidence.

"Dumbledore, you yourself said I'm a capable witch. You've taught me and you know what I am capable of. I could teach those kids how to defend themselves properly. I could teach them spells appropriate for their age but still strong enough for them to defend themselves in times of need. Which might be coming sooner than later."

"I see." She held her breath, waiting for his reply, "I have to think about it."

"Think about it?” What? Once again she was hit with a thought that this man had lost a few marbles over the years. “You are aware that the Ministry wants to take control over the school, aren't you, Dumbledore?"

"I am perfectly aware, thank you very much for your concern, miss Demons." Even though he didn’t raise his voice, Lilith could hear a sharp edge to it. A warning. “I will send an owl with my response.”

She knew a dismissal when she heard one and this was certainly it. So she stood up from her chair, bowed her head, said her goodbye, and left. On her way back to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds Lilith was lost in her thoughts. The Dark Lord was sure Dumbledore would hire her on the spot, and yet, he sent her away. Even with the only alternative being letting the Ministry inside the castle he still told her he has to think about it. What was there to think about, she wondered. And even more importantly, what would she do if Dumbledore decided he didn’t want her at the school? She had to get the job. At all costs.

Lilith decided she will have to wait and see. The Dark Lord was sure, so she will have to trust his judgment. Once she knows for sure if she got the job or not, she’ll decide what her next move would be.

And so she waited. It wasn’t until two days later before an owl had flown through her window, dropped a letter right next to her on the floor, and left. She was in the kitchen, making some tea, and she put the kettle back down to pick up the piece of paper.

_ Miss Demons, _

_ I am happy to inform you that after careful consideration of your application, you have been accepted for the position of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am looking forward to seeing you at the Sorting Ceremony on September 1st at Hogwarts. _

_ Your new classroom, as well as the office, is placed off of the Serpentine Corridor on the third floor. You will receive your timetable on the first day of the school year. _

_ Hope you are well, _

_ Albus Dumbledore _

Well, she thought, not being able to stop herself from grinning, that would be that. Exactly as the Dark Lord foretold, Albus Dumbledore got caught into his trap. Forgetting all about her steaming mug of tea sitting on the counter, she ran upstairs to her bedroom. She grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a letter to the Dark Lord, informing him that everything was going according to plan. Once she was done writing, she walked over to the cage placed on top of the dresser, to poke Stolas awake. 

***

He was standing in front of a large window, looking out into the distance; Lilith was sure his thoughts were miles away from the village he was looking at. The room was covered with long shadows cast by the sunset seeping in through the window. It was quiet, save for the occasional hiss of the snake curled up on the carpet like some kind of a weird parody of a dog.

She has been summoned to Little Hangleton, shortly after sending Stolas with her message, so she could receive further instructions. And that was exactly where she wasㅡstanding in an empty room, looking at Lord Voldemort’s back, awaiting her faith with bated breath. She didn’t dare to speak or move, didn’t even dare to breathe a bit louder, in fear of angering him.

“I have been careless with that boy in the past,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her, “He needs to be watched.”

The Dark Lord turned to look at her, his red eyes pinning her to the spot, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Snape informed me that Potter has a tendency to take a liking to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Guide him, teach him, gain his trust. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lord,” she said, her voice a bit hoarse.

She didn’t ask why it was so crucial for the boy to trust her, she wasn’t foolish enough to do that. The only thing she could do was to trust that in due time the entire plan would be revealed to her.

Lord Voldemort turned back towards the window, sending her a clear message that the conversation was over and she was free to leave. She was almost at the door when his cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

“And make sure Dumbledore thinks you're on his side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately, I've been struggling with some creative block, so I'm just glad I managed to squeeze this chapter out of myself.  
Let me know what do you think about it, I'm genuinely curious.


	4. IV: A Raven, A Toad, And A Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, huh?  
ANNOUNCEMENT: I have edited/changed the last three chapters of this story. I highly recommend you go and read those again before reading this one.

* * *

After two months of unbearable Summer’s heat, Autumn came abruptly, almost as a shock. Thick, grey clouds running through the sky looked ready to burst at any given moment. The forest surrounding her cottage was awfully quiet that morning. It seemed, every living creature has crawled into their burrows, hiding and waiting for the sky to crumble.

A low, threatening rumble of thunder rolled above the forest, announcing the approaching storm. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold, crispy air that flew into her unusually clean bedroom through the opened window.

Scanning the room with her eyes, she tried to make sure she packed everything she needed for her ten months-long stay at Hogwarts. Her trunk was packed. There was no trash on the floor, no clothes lying around. Her bed was made. Stolas was sleeping peacefully in his cage with his head under his wing. Her letter of resignation from her post at the Ministry has been accepted a day earlier. Everything was ready. The only thing left for her to do was to leave her cottage and catch the Knight Bus that would take her to the castle.

Letting out a tired sigh she put her hand on the handle of the window with the intention to close it when a shadow in the sky has caught her eye. Squinting to see better, it took her a few seconds to realize, that the dark shape was a bird, moving quickly in her direction. She moved out of the way for what she thought to be an owl, but a second later a large black raven flew into her bedroom and she cursed under her nose. Wonderful, she thought, exactly what she needed right now was a visitor from hell.

She watched the bird as it landed directly on her bed as if it had every right to do so. She resisted the urge to curse the damned thing on the spot.

“What do you want?” She barked, turning her back on the bird, which was probably not the wisest thing to do, to look out of the window and make sure no other unwanted guest was about to pay her a visit. When she heard no reply she sneered, “Forgot how to chirp, birdie?”

But when she looked at the raven again, she found herself looking in the pale blue eyes of Faustus Blackwood, sitting in the exact same spot where the bird has been mere seconds ago. He flicked non-existent dust off of his sleeve, smirking at her. When he spoke, his sarcastic voice sounded awfully loud in the otherwise quiet house.

“I forgot what a ray of sunshine you are. It’s always a pleasure to see you again.”

“I'm afraid I can’t say the same.” She crossed her arms on her chest observing his every move as he stood up from her bed and started to move around the room, running his hand over this and that. Slowly losing her patience, she huffed, “Is there a reason why you’re here?”

He did not respond at once. She watched as he picked one of the old copies of the Daily Prophet from her bedside table, the only thing she didn’t have time to clean up while packing her trunk. He skimmed through the front page and to Lilith’s great irritation he opened the paper and started to read one of the articles inside. Running out of her patience completely she took out her wand and waved it angrily. The Daily Prophet flew out of Faustus’ hands and landed back on the bedside table.

“Play nice, Lilith,” he said with an amused look on his face, moving his eyes to look at her, “I only came here to see how you’re holding up.”

“As you can see, I don’t have time for sipping tea and gossips so if you’d be so kind to just spit out whatever it is that you have to say.”

Once again, instead of answering immediately, he looked around the room. His eyes landed on the trunk at the foot of her bed, then the traveling cloak, and finally, once again on her face. The cocky smile on his lips made her insides churn with blossoming rage. She tightened her grip on her wand at her side. 

“Getting ready to go on your big adventure, aren’t you?”

“Yes?” she said sarcastically, forcing herself to stay calm. She would not let herself get provoked by this poor excuse of a man.

“Are you sure you’re…” he took a second to choose his words carefully, “...capable of completing this mission? It seems a little bit… too much for someone like you.”

“And I suppose,” she said slowly, trying to figure out what his train of thoughts was, “you’d gladly take over from me. Is that it?”

“No.” Lilith was not expecting such an answer. She was sure he wanted to convince her he would be a more suitable person to complete this task. “I must admit your cover is better than mine would have been, besides Dumbledore has already hired you. And,” a disgustingly self-pleased smile graced his lips, “I have my own orders to fulfill.”

Of course, she thought to herself, understanding finally dawning on her. So that was the reason behind his visit. He wanted to gloat. 

“Oh?” she asked, trying to sound uninterested in whatever he had to say, “Whatever those might be? Scaring a few people senseless? Putting them under the Imperius Curse?” After all, the Imperius Curse has always been his specialty. But when his smile changed into a disgusting grin, an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach making her nauseous.

“I was told to do exactly what I am doing right now.” She lifted her eyebrow, trying to maintain her unbothered expression. “Check up on you from time to time. Make sure you're doing what you’re supposed to be doing.”

She felt weirdly empty. Every single thought flew out of her head as the wheels in her mind had finally clicked together. He was ordered to be her babysitter. The white-hot flames of rage licked at her insides, the hand gripping the wand at her side trembled a little bit. A heavy silence settled between them as he observed her face, looking for any reaction from her. When she finally spoke, her voice was reduced to a low and dangerous growl.

“I don’t need you to tell me my business.” To her irritation, his grin just widened.

“Good luck on your first day of school,” he said and in a fraction of a second, he changed into a raven again and flew out of the window.

“What the fuck?” she muttered to herself, looking after him as he disappeared from the view.

***

Walking into the Great Hall that evening she was instantly overcome with a sense of deja vu. Everything looked exactly the same as it did when she was a student herself.

The enchanted ceiling, imitating the sky outside of the castle, was dark and starless that night. Burning candles hung up in the air illuminated the pearly-white ghosts floating here and there amongst older students who were already taking their places at the four long tables. The fifth table at the far end of the room, reserved for staff, was mostly occupied; only a few chairs were still left empty.

Scanning the last table, one particular face stood out to her, amongst the familiar figures of her own professors from the past. Zelda Spellman, sitting with her back straight as a ruler, engrossed in a conversation with a plump witch sitting on her left. A delighted chuckle escaped her lips when she noticed two empty chairs on the other side of her. Unable to resist the urge to annoy the woman who seemed to be determined to hate her without any apparent reason, she made her way towards the table as if she owned the place.

“Aw, you saved me a seat,” she teased Zelda falling onto the empty chair right next to her. “How very thoughtful of you.”

At the sound of her voice, the woman’s head spun around, her eyes widened at the sight of Lilith casually sitting beside her. It was amusing for Lilith to watch Zelda go through all stages of grief in a split second. She could barely contain her grin when Zelda’s eyes narrowed and she hissed through gritted teeth, “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

“Well,” she breathed out with the most innocent look on her face she could muster, “I’m the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

It took all of Lilith’s self-control not to burst out laughing at the look of utter disbelief that flashed on the woman’s face. Zelda’s eyes landed on something above Lilith’s shoulder before her eyebrows furrowed.

“Can’t you at least go annoy someone else?” Zelda’s sigh could not sound more displeased. Her lips turned into a scowl Lilith has already seen briefly at Grimmauld Place.

“And where would be the fun in that?” She let out a chuckle, which only earned her a glare. “Besides, I hardly know anyone here, save for my own teachers, and it’s always nice to have a familiar face next to you, isn’t it?”

She was starting to enjoy pushing Zelda’s buttons. Trying to see which ones pushed her to the edge. She was like a cat pushing the boundaries with its owner, trying to see how far she could go out of the line before being scolded. So with a grin blooming on her lips, she remained in her seat, much to Zelda’s obvious annoyance.

Lilith noticed the witch sitting on Zelda’s left side was eyeing her with curiosity. The woman caught her eye, a cheery smile breaking on her face. Lilith reached out her hand to the witch, invading Zelda’s personal space in the process, almost pressing against her side. She could feel the waves of tension and irritation rolling off of her body. 

“Hilda Spellman,” said the other witch, shaking Lilith’s hand.

“Another Spellman!” she exclaimed with delight, glancing at Zelda who’s face was now inches away. Hilda let go of her hand, and Lilith had to lean back a bit, much to Zelda’s obvious relief. “Oh my, must be my lucky day! And what do you teach, professor Spellman?”

“Oh, do call me Hilda, love,” the woman waved her hand dismissively, “I teach Herbology.”

“Oh, really? Well, Iㅡ” 

“Hilda, stay away from this woman.” Zelda glared at Hilda with fire in her eyes.

“Zelds,” said Hilda tentatively, “if it’s annoying you that we talk, we could switch placesㅡ”

But before the witch could respond, the heavy door to the Great Hall opened and everyone fell silent when a group of small children led by Minerva McGonagall entered the room. The old Sorting Hat began to sing its song, but Lilith didn’t hear anything of what it’s said. She stared at the Hat, but she didn’t see it, either. Her mind was occupied with trying to figure out what has she done to earn Zelda’s hostility. The woman looked around her own age, maybe a few years younger. Were they at Hogwarts at the same time? Has she stepped on her toe once in the halls, and ever since the woman didn’t like her? Were they playing in opposite quidditch teams? Has she hit Zelda in the face with her bat or a bludger? She couldn’t recall.

Loud applause and whispers rolling through the room brought her back to reality. Professor McGonagall started to read through the long scroll of parchment, giving a new home to first-year students. She watched small children trotting excitedly to the proper tables. The idea of teaching them all in no more than a couple of hours overwhelmed her a little bit. She wasn’t sure she’ll make a convincing teacher, but it wasn’t up to her anymore, was it. She was already at Hogwarts and there was no turning back. Even if there was still time for her to resign, she was sure Lord Voldemort would kill her in a matter of seconds. 

Another round of applause signaled the end of the Sorting Ceremony. Professor McGonagall took the stool and the old Sorting Hat away, and then took a seat at the empty chair on Lilith’s right. Lilith nodded her head in greeting and looked away, not wanting to get engaged in any conversation.

The five long tables groaned under the weight of the food that appeared on them. The noise of countless conversations and clattering of cutlery erupted everywhere around the room. The smell of warm meals made her stomach growl; she’s forgotten how much she enjoyed Hogwarts’ food. She reached out for shepherd’s pie, but her fingers bumped into Zelda’s hand, who was about to grab the same thing. Their eyes met, and Lilith couldn’t help but smirk at Zelda’s frown.

“You first,” she said, motioning to Zelda to go ahead. She watched as the woman put a small portion of food onto her plate, and then handed over the dish without looking at Lilith. 

She behaved as if Lilith didn’t exist in the space on her left side, she turned to Hilda and engaged her in a conversation once more, talking in between eating and rolling her food around the plate. She had to admit, Zelda was doing a good job of pretending Lilith was not there, but she still could see the unnatural stiffness of her spine, her fidgeting hands, the vein popping on her neck. Tell-tale signs most people would have missed. 

Her eyes roamed the Great Hall, gliding over every detail, her mind focused on the mysterious reason why would Zelda act that way. As far as Lilith could tell, they didn’t know each other prior to their meeting at Grimmauld Place. So why would this woman be so angry at Lilith’s mere presence? She felt as if she was trying to solve a puzzle without the most important pieces. 

The Feast came to an end. The rest of the desserts disappeared from the tables; golden plates flashed clean in the glow of the candles once more. Everyone fell silent when Dumbledore stood up to welcome them all once again.

“Please, allow me to introduce our new teacher of the Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Lilith turned her head towards the Headmaster. He was looking at her with that annoying twinkle in his eyes, “Professor Lilith Demons.” A round of unenthusiastic applause reverberated against the Great Hall’s walls. She nodded her head and flashed a friendly smile in acknowledgment. “I would also like to announce that this year the Ministry of Magic appointed a new post here at Hogwarts. I’d like to introduce Madam Dolores Umbridge, who will be our High Inquisitor.”

A murmur rushed through the room. Students were exchanging confused whispers with each other. It would seem hiring a new teacher didn’t stop Fudge from meddling in Hogwart’s business. They should have seen it coming. And he sent his Senior Undersecretary too to do the dirty job for him. Lilith looked over at Umbridge. The sight of the black bow on her hair made Lilith want to roll her eyes.

Dumbledore continued with his speech but quickly fell silent, looking towards Umbridge with a lifted eyebrow. Lilith wasn’t surprised that the toad wanted to have her own five minutes of the spotlight. She remembered her doing exactly the same thing once or twice at the Ministry.

The woman’s voice echoed through the room, mixing with the murmurs of the students, shocked that someone would dare to interrupt the Headmaster’s speech.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance,” she sang in that irritatingly sweet voice of hers, “The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledgeㅡ”

Lilith could pinpoint the exact moment the students’ attention drifted away from what Umbridge was saying. She saw kids all around the room chatting with each other; she was sure she even noticed one girl reading a magazine.

“The High Inquisitor?” A whisper on her side pulled Lilith’s attention from Umbridge’s words. Hilda Spellman was looking at Zelda with raised eyebrows.

“She’s here to spy,” whispered Lilith, leaning over slightly so Hilda could hear her more clearly. Zelda stared at her angrily.

“Well then, she’s not the only one, is she?”

“What?” But she didn’t get any answer. Zelda looked away, pretending Lilith didn’t exist in the space next to her once more.

Her mind was racing. What did Zelda mean? Was it possible that she knew she was a Death Eater? How? No, that was impossible, there was no proof, no evidence she was ever connected to the Dark Lord and his servants in any way… Save for the Dark Mark on her arm, of course, but no one has ever seen it, she made sure of that throughout the years.

“ㅡLet us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

She was so caught up in her thoughts that the final sentences of Umbridge’s speech did not reach her ears. The sudden realization that the woman stopped talking dawned on students and professors a few seconds too late. By the time they all realized it was their cue to clap, it was too late. Dumbledore stood up again and continued where he left off.

Soon enough, the Headmaster said goodnight to the students, letting them all go their beds for the night. Lilith looked around and saw that most of the teachers have already left the table. Zelda Spellman was walking with Hilda towards the door.

“Wait!” said Lilith, rushing after them. Zelda looked at her over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow and motioned to Hilda to go without her. Lilith caught a glimpse of curiosity in Hilda’s eyes before she walked away. “Can we talk?”

Lilith was certain if the woman could kill with her stare, she’d be dead by now, but Zelda nodded and lead her to the chamber behind the professors’ table. It was a small room, full of portraits, which all looked at them when they entered.

Lilith turned around to look at Zelda who was watching her with her arms crossed.

“What is your problem?” asked Lilith. The woman’s face hardened.

“My problem is that I do not trust you,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her cold eyes scanned Lilith’s face, “What are you _ really _ doing here?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her mind was working at the highest speed. The only explanation for Zelda’s behavior was that she knew something about Lilith that would cause her to act this way. As if reading her mind Zelda stepped closer to her and said,

“My brother told me all about you.”

Lilith frowned. _ Brother? _ What was she talking about? Prior to the first meeting of the Order that Lilith has attended, she didn’t know personally anyone by the name of Spellman. She knew of their existence, yes. They were one of the few old pureblood families, but before she met Zelda at the Grimmauld Place she didn’t know any of them… Something was not right.

“What would your brother know about me?” she asked confused by the game Zelda was playing. 

“Oh, cut the crap, will you?” Zelda snapped, moving even closer to Lilith. “He told me about his best friend, Lilith Demons.”

_ Best friend? _ This situation was getting more and more ridiculous. Wouldn’t she remember her so-called best friend’s name? This woman was clearly crazy. 

“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Keep the pet names to yourself.” Lilith could see a vein popping on Zelda’s neck, her cheeks were getting pink with anger. “And don't you dare lie to me. When Dumbledore introduced you to the room I had a feeling I heard your name before, but it didn’t click until Arthur introduced you again. When Edward joined Death Eaters he told me about all of the wonderful plans the Dark Lord had for rebuilding the wizarding world. He also told me about you. His best friend.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she repeated. Her voice grew hoarse. This whole situation didn’t make sense. Zelda Spellman knew she was a Death Eater. But she also claimed that her brother was a Death Eater as well. It was a possibility, after all, Lilith didn’t know everyone by name, but if that _brother_ claimed Lilith was his _best friend, _and if he knew her name…

Before she could say anything else, Zelda took Lilith’s left hand and yanked the sleeve of her robe above her elbow revealing the Dark Mark burned into her skin. Lilith pulled her hand away and took a few steps back. She could feel her heart rate speed up at the sight of a triumph on Zelda’s face.

Cogs in Lilith’s brain were turning fast, she was sure Zelda heard the buzz of her thoughts, trying to come up with something, _ anything _ that would explain the Dark Mark on her forearm, without revealing the true reason behind her presence in the castle and in the Order. She was sure she was worse Death Eater even than the Carrows. Compromised not even one day in her mission.

She had two options: either use the Forgetting Charm and make Zelda forget what she saw, or come up with a story that would explain all of this. Having a feeling that she was committing the biggest mistake, she opted for the second option. She schooled her face and tried her best to bring her heartbeat back to a normal speed.

“That was completely unnecessary, you know?” she asked, fixing her sleeve back into place.

“Unnecessary?” Zelda repeated with a small smile hiding in the corner of her mouth, “No, I don’t think so. Now I have a proof for Dumbledore to believe me.”

So Miss Spellman was trying to warn the Headmaster about her? And Dumbledore didn’t believe her? Fool, Lilith thought to herself.

“Do you really think he didn’t check my background before he hired me?” she asked, silently thanking Merlin for being so trusting. “And do you really think that if I was still a Death Eater they would let me join the Order and start a teaching career at Hogwarts?”

“Haven't you heard what happened here last year?” Yes, she thought, last year Lord Voldemort let a Death Eater roam the castle in a disguise. Zelda had a point.

Only now has Lilith realized that all of the portraits in the room were eavesdropping on their conversation. Most of them tried to look busy or asleep, but she noticed that they were shooting them curious looks.

“Do you think You-Know-Who would make the same mistake twice?” Lilith laughed, trying to sound convincing. They were, in fact, making the same mistake twice. But that was beyond the point. “I'm here because I needed protection. I admit, the last time he was at large I was one of his servants. But not anymore. It was only a matter of time before he would send one of his dogs to kill me.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Lilith couldn’t tell if the woman bought her tale or not. Her thoughts drifted to the mysterious brother, Edward Spellman, that was supposed to be her best friend. She didn’t have any friends amongst the Death Eaters. Why would this person lie to his sister? And how in the world did he know Lilith’s name?

“Are you certain your brother is a Death Eater?” she asked, following her own train of thoughts, and not waiting for Zelda to reply to her earlier tale. If Zelda’s eyes were cold before, now they were two blocks of ice. 

“I would be very much certain,” even her voice was cold, causing chills to run down Lilith’s spine, “seeing as they killed him when he ran away from them with his muggle wife.”

_ Oh. _ But still, that information gave her nothing. She didn’t recall anyone running away because they fell in love with a muggle. There was no one fitting that profile in Lilith’s mind. Something was not right; Lilith’s head started to hurt.

“That sounds like something they would do,” she said, still lost in her thoughts and trying to fight off the headache building in her left temple. “But I swear I didn’t know your brother.”

Zelda’s scrutinizing gaze gave Lilith an impression of being able to see right through her.

“I don't know why you keep on lying about this but I'll let it go, for now,” the woman said at last. She turned around and moved in the direction of the door. “And for the record, I don't believe you for one second when you say you're not a Death Eater anymore.”

“Dumbledore trusts me,” she said, watching Zelda stop at the threshold and turn to look at her over her shoulder.

“Dumbledore is a man. He makes mistakes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some feedback! Remember that I live for validation! ♥


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